


Small Angry People

by howlite



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Hospitals, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 18:29:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2120259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howlite/pseuds/howlite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky hates freshmen. Seriously, they’re so annoying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Angry People

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I wrote this as a way of avoiding editing my other stuff. Hope it’s entertaining.

“You shouldn’t say things like that”  
Bucky turns. In front of him, between him and the assholes that harass every day is some blond punk, itching for a fight. Now, he's not the nicest guy, but he's not a total asshole, and this guy looks like if he takes a hit, he'll never get up. So he does the noble thing. He grabs him, flashes a smile at the pissed off gang, and gets the hell out.  
“Fuck off” he says to the assholes, and walks away, dragging the guy behind him.  
They make it to a more secluded part of the building before the guy pulls out of his grip.  
He glares at him, and wow, that's quite a look, those blue eyes blazing with righteous anger.  
"Why did you stop me?” he asks.  
Bucky frowns. He supposes it was too much to expect the guy to be grateful.  
"I didn’t want to see those guys beat you to a pulp. I can't deal with that, not this early in the day”  
The guy looks at the ground. He looks so earnest, so genuinely bothered.  
“I heard them, I heard what they said. They... They shouldn't have said that.”  
Bucky rolls his eyes. Obviously the guy hadn’t heard of the many people giving him shit about his arm every day.  
“I honestly don’t care. There’s no reason for you to get beat up”  
By the guy’s sad, confused expression, he doesn't seem to get it. He shakes his head. If death wish kid wants to keep this up, it's his own damn problem. He turns to leave, moving to his next class. But the guy follows him, turning to join him as he attempts to walk away.  
“I’m Steve”, the guy says. “What’s your name?”  
He sighs. “I’m Bucky Barnes. Please don’t talk to me. You seem like a lot of trouble”  
Steve frowns but nods. Bucky keeps walking. He hates freshmen.  
The next day, he's at it again, standing by the school’s door, lecturing the guys on the devastating effects of name calling. The guys haven't beaten him up, yet, but only because they’re still laughing that Steve’s still talking to them. Sometimes he really hates his own conscience. He walks towards the group, grabbing Steve by the arm.  
“Come with me for a minute”  
He walks away, pulling Steve along with him before the others can figure out what happened. He walks them to an empty place behind the school before he finally releases him. He glares down at those wide blue eyes.  
"Okay, just what is your problem? I told you to drop it, I don’t want or need you to protect me, so why are you still starting shit?”  
Steve snorts.  
"I didn't do it for you"  
Bucky can feel himself growing angry. He tries to take calming breaths.  
“Then what the hell did you do it for?” he asks. Steve crosses his arms.  
“They were being hurtful. They need to know that saying things like that isn't alright. If no one stands up to them, they'll never know”  
Bucky shakes his head. Steve is obviously insane.  
"Seriously, please, please stop doing this in front of me. I don’t think my heart can take it"  
Steve looks at him, then gives one firm nod and darts away. Bucky pushes his hair back, letting out a sigh. He’s too young for this.  
The next day brings Steve with a black eye.  
He doesn't want to say anything, doesn't want to associate with this sort of craziness, but he can't help himself.  
"You just don't know when to stop.” He says.  
Steve rolls his eyes, wincing as he does.  
"It wasn't on purpose. It just happened"  
He laughs. It’s only a little bit bitter.  
The days pass.  
He's afraid, both of, and for this pint sized bastard. For all his frailness, Steve doesn't know when to back down. He doesn't tell him to stop. He knows the idiot won’t end this ill-advised crusade against assholes.  
But he does hang around more, standing in silent support. He makes time between classes to be there, to watch out for him, to make sure he’s okay and no one beats him up. It's either his metal arm or his murderous expression, but it works. They, for the most part, leave Steve alone.  
The one time someone tries, he decks them. Not with his metal arm, but with his flesh, his knuckle slamming into the bastard’s face. He's panting hard and Steve is staring between him and the guy, eyes wide as dinner plates. He looks shocked. How funny. He didn't bat an eyelash standing in front of guys twice his size, but show him Bucky throwing a punch and he acts all surprised. He flashes him a grin.  
“Can't let those bastards beat you up, can I?”  
Steve doesn’t laugh. He steps forward, reaching out his hand to hold his, caressing bruised knuckles in delicate hands. He looks at his face, eyes questioning. Bucky turns away.  
"I won't let them hurt you" he says.  
Steve doesn’t say anything in reply. Later, Steve finds him, toting a giant first aid kit. He takes his hand, ignoring his protests and bandaging it. He rubs ointment and wraps it up, tucking the bandages in with precise fingers.  
Steve gets ill. He doesn’t return to school, the days feeling gray and empty without him. He visits him in the hospital, staring at the frail body, unconscious and small. He looks so strange, so unlike himself, still and surrounded by monitors. The doctor explains the situation. Heart problems, asthma, and that's just the beginning. Bucky wonders how he didn't know, how Steve managed to hide the weakness of his body.  
He wonders how much longer he’ll survive.  
Steve returns to school, pale, but seemingly fine. He catches sight of Bucky, cracking a smile when he sees him. He gets none in return.  
“Were you ever going to tell me?” he asks.  
Steve looks confused. Eyes, eyes that yesterday lay shuttered in fitful sleep are open and filled with confusion.  
“Tell you what?”  
Bucky glares.  
“About the hospital visits. About your poor health. About how your doctor told me it's a miracle you’re still alive.”  
Steve bites his lip.  
“He told you that?”  
Bucky nods. Steve shakes his head.  
“I didn't want you to worry”  
Bucky's fists clench.  
“Not worry? How can I not worry when any day you could die?”  
Steve looks sad. Steve looks sad, and it's all his fault, for bringing this up, for bothering him with all his own chaotic feelings. Steve is dying, and he’s still being selfish, still making Steve pay for his careless words. He's such a shitty friend. Steve lifts his head.  
"Bucky actually, they are trying something. Tomorrow, they’re doing an operation. Project Rebirth. It’s experimental, but they think that if it succeeds, I could be cured”  
Bucky looks into his eyes.  
“And if it doesn't?”  
Steve looks away. Bucky feels his stomach clench.  
“Never mind. It's your decision. You didn't tell me you were sick, and it's obvious you don’t care how I feel about this”  
Steve’s eyes watch him, growing sadder by the second.  
“Just--forget it.”  
He walks away before Steve can say anything.  
He sits in his car. Steve comes over.  
“Bucky, listen."  
He turns away. Steve sighs, stepping forwards and talking to him through the car window, even as he avoids eye contact. "I've survived my whole life, fighting my body, fighting society, fighting my own desire to give up. I haven't lost yet, and I don't plan on doing it tomorrow”  
Bucky looks at him. Steve’s eyes are filled with resolve. Steve looks back, expression inscrutable. He wonders if Steve can tell he's been crying. He shakes his head. "Okay" he says. There's nothing else to say.  
Steve grabs his hand. His face is earnest, expression filled with heartbreaking honesty.  
“I wanted you to know ..." He ducks his head down, his voice growing soft.  
"that I love you. And if I die tomorrow, I want you to know that."  
Bucky stares at him. He nods.  
Steve leaves him, and Bucky prays to God, prays to any higher power that Steve will make it.  
The next day is a blur. He goes to the hospital. They keep him in the waiting room, seconds passing like hours. He spends each one, sitting there, wondering if Steve is still alive.  
Eventually they wheel someone out. He sees blond hair, and the slight rise of a breathing body, and then he’s launching out of his chair, barreling towards him.  
Steve is there, skin bright and healthier than he'd ever seen it. He drinks in the sight, of Steve, small but strong, breathing full breaths. He can believe it. Steve really is going to be alright.  
He feels tears streaking down his face. He watches, holding his breath as Steve shifts, his eyes fluttering open.  
Steve blinks a few times. His mouth twitches, smiling as he sees Bucky hovering over him.  
"I made it" he says.  
All Bucky can do nod, knowing he looks like an idiot, crying over this blond punk in a hospital bed. He doesn't care.  
He reaches forwards, engulfing Steve in a hug. He can’t seem to get himself to let go. They sit like that in silence. Eventually, his throat works well enough for him to speak.  
“I didn't say it” he says.  
Steve makes a questioning sound.  
“You just threw it out there the other day, and I didn't say anything in return”  
Steve is extricating himself from his grip, turning to try to see his face. He sees blue eyes peering at him. He swallows and continues. "I didn't get to say I love you”  
Steve blinks. He blinks again, and then his face is turning a lovely red.  
Oh" he says. Then Steve is looking into his eyes, giving him a slow smile that lights his heart from the inside.  
Steve lifts himself up, leans forwards, and kisses him. He kisses back, and he can truly believe, everything is going to be okay.


End file.
